


The Stars Shone Brightly

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, Cousin Relationship, Cousins, F/M, Fashion & Couture, Inheritance, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, New York, Poetry, Romance, Unconventional Courtship Generator, begins with Leonardo da Vinci/Lucrezia Donati, but there wouldn't really be a story then, community: unconventional courtship, endgame Girolamo Riario/Lucrezia Donati, inspired by a romance novel blurb, past Girolamo Riario/Zita (Da Vinci's Demons), past Lorenzo de Medici/Lucrezia Donati, poems by Percy Bysshe Shelley, seriously one honest conversation would prevent all the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3837460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Girolamo Riario’s multimillionaire Italian lover had ruthlessly informed him that she was getting married – to someone else… But when he inherits half her company, she plots to protect it by marrying him. This is the only woman he will ever love, but she needs to be taught a lesson.<br/>For the Unconventional Courtship challenge 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bereavement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alessandro's funeral brings Lucrezia and her new fiancé face to face with her cousin, the man she once loved. The will reading provides an unwanted surprise.

Alessandro's death was, Lucrezia thought, somewhat of a blessing. She had never liked her uncle, a man whose cruelty was well known, and who had tried to steal more than his rightful share of her father's business empire.

Girolamo Riario certainly did not seem upset by his father's passing. He was sitting in the front pew, dressed all in black, elegant sunglasses tucked into his pocket, the picture of propriety; but then he always dressed this way. There was no hint of grief on his handsome face. He might have been at a tiresome meeting rather than a funeral.

Lucrezia felt her phone vibrate in her handbag. She thought she'd turned it off, and thanked her stars that she'd at least put it into silent mode. It was probably Leo, her boyfriend. No, she reminded herself, not boyfriend. Fiancé now; he'd proposed just last week, but they hadn't announced it, and he'd stopped asking for her to do so when her uncle died.

Leo had begged to come to the funeral, to meet her family, to rub shoulders with the great and good - part networking, part genuine curiosity about her life. She'd refused. The longer she could keep Leo away from her relatives and their devious plans the better. He was more naive than he liked to believe, a literal Englishman in New York, an artist who was not meant for the cutthroat corporate world.

"At least let me come to the after party," Leo had begged.

"You mean the wake."

"I thought the wake was beforehand. To make sure they were dead. People used to almost get buried alive quite often," Leo said, launching into a historical overview of death and burial. Partly to shut him up, she'd agreed that he could put in a brief appearance just before she was ready to leave the wake.

At last the interminable service was over, and the mourners filed out to watch the coffin be placed into the family crypt. Lucrezia's father watched with what she thought was smug satisfaction. His resemblance to his brother was off-putting to several mourners and she and Francesco were kept rather separate from the others, a small but definite space around them.

Riario shook hands with various mourners, in particular those who weren't attending the reception. Lucrezia avoided him, at least for now. She and her father planned to have a drink at the mansion, circulate for a polite period of time, and then make their excuses. In the back of the limo, she took out her phone and found a missed call and a text from Leo.

_What tie should I wear_

She rapidly sent a response. _The black one with white stripes. We're on our way now. Show up in twenty minutes. Bring my invitation._

If he were not given very specific instructions, Leo tended to do his own thing, often with surprising or embarrassing results. He was a genius with an accompanying lack of common sense, and Lucrezia hoped he would be on his best behaviour at the reception or wake or whatever he wanted to call it.

* 

The mansion was everything Lucrezia remembered; elegant but soulless, with little furniture and even fewer personal touches. The dining room had the french windows thrown open to the spotless grounds, and snow white tablecloths were covered with a multitude of what Leo would call "nibbles" and a vast array of wine glasses.

Riario stood near the windows, a half-filled glass of red wine in one hand, observing the proceedings as if his body were present but his mind was elsewhere. Now and then someone passed by and spoke with him, waking him from his reverie. He inclined his head, accepting their condolences, sometimes shaking their hand with his free one. But he was unruffled, even disconnected, from the proceedings.

It was only when Alessandro was on his death bed that he had acknowledged Riario to be not his nephew, as he'd always claimed - painting himself a saint for taking on a bastard child of his dead sister - but his son. So far, no one appeared to be trying to use this against Riario (a DNA test, Riario had commented offhandedly at a press conference, would prove the truth of it after all) but rumours abounded, and there were some who weren't sure how to handle Riario, who'd gained and lost a father within the space of seven days.

Lucrezia gulped down a glass of prosecco and steeled herself. She had tried to have little to do with her cousin of late - still her cousin, yes, that had not changed - for she found his presence unsettling. His disinterested, world weary, manner masked the fact that he could be as cruel and arrogant as Alessandro, but also hid his true self, that of someone who could love utterly and completely.

She could not avoid him today. Her father had already done his duty, given Riario a kind word about their shared loss when a business associate he wanted to impress could overhear him. Now it was her turn.

Riario gave a faint smile as she approached him. He'd grown a neatly trimmed beard since last she'd met him, and she thought it improved his looks, giving him a maturity and edge of rakishness that he'd lacked before. "Cousin. Thank you for coming."

"It is a fine turn out," she said, glancing around the room.

He gave a soft, humourless, laugh. "Very few people here cared for him. In fact I'd wager maybe half of them are glad he's dead." He took a sip of wine. "You, for one," and, before she could protest, "and me, for another."

She leaned in closer, wondering if he was drunk to risk saying such things aloud. "He was your father."

"Who made me live until now as a bastard son who ought to be glad of his charity. Who treated me as poorly as some orphan he'd found on the street. Who physically chastised me for any perceived wrongdoing." Riario's tone was neutral, as if he were talking about someone else and not recounting his own terrible upbringing. "I will shed no tears for him, for I am as he made me. He taught me that tears are for the weak. And I have learned that trust will always be betrayed."

There was something so desperately sad about this that, despite herself, she placed one hand on his shoulder. He gazed at her delicate fingers, and then into her eyes. "I do not need your comfort, cousin."

"Perhaps you do and you don't know it," she returned.

"Lucrezia!" Leo bounced over, followed by a haughty man in a dark suit that proclaimed him as a staff member. "Can you tell this gentleman who I am? I showed him the invitation but he thinks I stole it or something."

Lucrezia stepped away to regard Leo with embarrassment. She supposed she ought to be glad he was wearing the fetching suit she'd purchased for him, and not one of his scruffy ensembles that was more thrift store than vintage chic. It was a terrible thing for a fashion designer to be dating someone lacking any sense of style, but he loved his worn jeans and his battered leather jacket, and given that he did dress appropriately when they were dining out together she'd had to get used to it. Riario looked at Leo with genuine amusement.

"He's with me," Lucrezia admitted. The man looked to Riario, who nodded, and he left, though not without a backward glance at Leo, seemingly outraged on Riario's behalf at Leo's presence. Lucrezia stepped back, smoothing imaginary creases from her dark dress.

"Hi. I'm Leo. My condolences." He held out his hand and a wary Riario gave him the barest response resembling a handshake. "So, all this is yours now?" Leo indicated the mansion as a whole.

Leo had a tendency to be blunt. Lucrezia winced.

Riario raised his eyes to the high ceiling with its painted fresco. "Yes. I suppose so. I will find out on Wednesday, at the will reading. I will see you both then?"

Lucrezia nodded. Leo tugged at her sleeve and pointed to someone he wanted to speak to, disappearing off before she could protest. Riario smiled. "He's delightful."

"He's my fiancé," she said, half-defending Leo in case Riario was mocking him, half wanting to hurt Riario with this bolt from the blue statement. It seemed history was repeating itself and that wasn't a good thing.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

Her eyes narrowed. "He's eccentric but he's a great artist and a good man."

Riario gave her a cold smile. "I meant sorry for him."

Lucrezia turned on her heel and walked away, pausing only to grab Leo and practically drag him out of the door.

* 

As was his wont, Leo kept fiddling with things. Lucrezia gently trod on his foot until he sat back in the leather chair and tried to look like a responsible adult. Riario watched them, amused, barely listening to his father's will being read by the lawyer.

A few charitable donations, much smaller then they could have been, a few trifles for Alessandro's various relatives, including a few pieces of his mother's jewellery for Lucrezia. Riario was getting the house and pretty much everything else, as expected, though Lucrezia doubted these gifts could outweigh the years of emotional and physical abuse he'd been subjected to. She'd told him to go the police one night, helping him stem the blood and hoping his nose wasn't broken. He'd laughed; as if Alessandro would ever do jail time. She'd hated that Riario was right.

"And finally, my son shall also receive all of the shares which I hold, both in my firm, and those of Donati Designs."

The blood drained from Lucrezia's face. Her company? When Alessandro had begun trying to take control of the firm he and Francesco owned, her father had helped Lucrezia set up her own business. For Francesco it was a safety precaution, but for Lucrezia it was a dream fulfilled. Since then her fashion house had gone from strength to strength. She had no idea that Alessandro had purchased shares in it.

"How many shares?" she asked.

The lawyer looked to Riario who nodded. "Almost forty per cent of the value of your company, Ms Donati."

The world spun. Lucrezia couldn't breathe. She fumbled for a glass of water and, seeing her distress, Leo filled a glass and handed it to her. She took a few sips, though she could barely swallow.

Lucrezia felt Leo's comforting hand on her shoulder, assuring her she looked as terrible as she felt.

"No…no, that's not possible," she said when she'd got herself under control. "I'd know about it." She had forty per cent of the company, and sixty per cent was held by various shareholders. If Alessandro had managed to buy up enough to equal her hold, she'd have been told, surely?

"It seems he acquired them over time through a number of shell companies," Riario said, almost apologetically. "But for all intents and purposes, they are mine. It would seem we are partners."

She hated the word "partner" from his lips with the insinuation he didn't mean solely in business. "I'll buy you out," she said.

"You can't afford it."

She ought to have kept calm, because now he knew how frightened and angry she was, and he'd hold onto the shares to spite her. She tried another tactic. "What on earth could you want with shares in a fashion house?"

He rubbed at his lapel with one knuckle. "If you recall I was once named fifth best dressed man by that magazine your firm so often features in. I am rather fashion conscious and I think I can do better, if immersed in your world."

Lucrezia stood, Leo following her lead, and she stormed out of the office.

* 

"Um, there's someone in your office," Angela said, pointing a shaky finger. She'd only been with Lucrezia a short time and while Lucrezia was sure there was the making of a good personal assistant in her, Angela was still somewhat rough around the edges.

"Anyone in particular?" Lucrezia asked archly, shifting the folder of papers under her arm to a more comfortable position.

Angela moistened her pale pink lips. "He said he's the co-owner."

Lucrezia's blood ran cold. Angela looked to her for guidance, and she gathered her wits. "My cousin, Girolamo Riario," she said. "He recently inherited shares in the company."

Angela gave her a desperate look, unsure how she ought to react. "I took him a coffee," she offered. "Shall I get you one?"

"Yes," Lucrezia said, heading into her office. _Or something stronger_.

Riario was seated in her chair, behind the imported desk, facing out of the floor to ceiling windows that gave Lucrezia a wonderful view of the city. He swivelled to face her as she approached. "Good morning," he said.

"You're in my seat." It sounded petty but it was how she felt.

Riario lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "We are going to have to learn to share, cousin." He gestured to one side of the room. "I think we can fit another desk in over there. This room is larger than your poor assistant's apartment, I'd wager."

Lucrezia glared at him, slamming the folder onto her desk. "Why are you here?"

"I told you. I intend to be a part of your business."

"You inherited some shares," Lucrezia seethed. "That doesn't give you the right to move into my office and take over."

Riario spun the chair from side to side, amused. "I'm not taking over, though I'm sure that was my father's plan when he began acquiring the shares. I'm here to help. I have ideas to improve your business that you would be wise to consider." He leant forward in one swift motion, eyes narrowed. "Accept me as your partner. Or I will buy up every last share I can and take this company from you."

Anger flared up inside her. "You wouldn't!"

His cold anger was gone in a flash once he had forced a reaction from her. "Oh," Riario purred, "I very much might. You know what I am capable of." He smiled at Angela, who had just entered. She placed a coffee cup on the desk and backed away like a small animal who'd inadvertently wandered into the path of a potential predator. When she'd fled to the safety of her desk, Riario returned his attention to Lucrezia.

Lucrezia sank onto the bench seat kept for clients and took up her cup. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can." He leaned back, studied her. "Because this was our plan, remember, to collaborate in a business endeavour. We were close once, Lucrezia. And then you decided to marry Lorenzo. Remind me, how did that work out for you?"

She shook her head, reliving all the anger and shame she'd endured. She'd had Riario's interests at heart as well as her own, and not only had she been misled on that score, and later dumped, but Riario had betrayed her too. Men could not be trusted.

Riario drained his coffee cup. "I have a meeting," he said. "With a buyer whom I think I can persuade to join our family."

"This is a business, not a family," Lucrezia said bitterly. "And if I could revoke being related to you, I would."

He scoffed, getting to his feet and prowling around the desk, running his fingertips across her shoulder as he moved past her. The touch sent a shiver through her, and to her dismay it was not a shudder of disgust but a thrill of desire as she was reminded of their past closeness. "What happened to my needing your comfort?"

Before she could muster a response, he said, "Be careful what you wish for, cousin. My father is dead and my uncle is not immortal. Soon enough we might be the only family we have left."

The tension was broken by a hesitant knock on the doorframe. "Um, here's your keycard," Angela said from the doorway. "Sir."

So now she was going to be efficient. Was a charming smile from Riario all it took to improve Angela's productivity? Lucrezia restrained the desire to roll her eyes.

Riario crossed the room and took the keycard. "I've emailed you details of the office furniture I require," he said. "Please order it. In your own time."

Angela gave him an uncertain smile and he nodded first over his shoulder to Lucrezia, then to Angela, and headed out of the office.

Lucrezia sat in silence for several minutes after he left. Damn him. Damn him to hell!

At last she stood and went to Angela's desk. "You had better order the furniture," she said, defeated. "And there's something you should know. When Riario says in your own time, he means do it now."

Angela nodded, a frown creasing her brow. "He's going to work here all the time?"

"Some of the time," Lucrezia said. Riario had other business matters to attend to, surely? Please, please don't let him be here on a daily basis. She wasn't sure she could stand it.


	2. Yes! All is Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, not so long ago...

Lucrezia spoke fluent English when she moved to America with her father, having spent time not only in Italy, but in Paris, and England. She would sometimes, however, pretend ignorance and lapse into Italian. American men were usually either impressed by her European heritage, or turned off by it. Her cousin, however, merely relished the opportunity to practise his Italian. He'd been sent to study at a prestigious university in England and still had the upper class accent, but he'd also studied Italian, in testament to his family's roots, along with French and German for business. She was surprised by his fluency when he began to speak to her in Italian, and it made her feel more at home.

Despite the animosity between Alessandro and Francesco, they put on a facade of family togetherness, at least for a while. Their shared assets were the reason Francesco had moved to the USA, having lost a significant amount of money after a trusted employee had invested heavily in what turned out to be a Ponzi scheme run by his partner before absconding, leaving the firm almost in ruins.

As for Alessandro, he was keen to use Francesco's less tarnished image - he had made a costly mistake back in Italy but there were no sex scandals or accusations of wrongdoing in his closet - to encourage new investors. 

Their father had played them against each other their entire lives and they continued to squabble long after he was gone. They were family and they needed each other, but there had never been any fraternal love between them.

Lucrezia always grew tired of watching them speak kind words through gritted teeth and would excuse herself. If they were at a business meeting she'd go to fetch coffee. If they were at a restaurant she'd go outside for some air; if at home, to the library – and none but Riario ever noticed her absence. Regardless of the location it had became habitual for Riario to follow her. At first he made some silly excuse about watching out for her, as if she'd been locked away in a nunnery rather than immersed in the fashion circuit in Milan and jet setting around the world on business. In fact, he needed protection of his own.

The first time she saw Alessandro strike Riario she was horrified. Alessandro had been complaining about a competitor, threatening to destroy them by any means necessary. Riario had made a throwaway comment urging compassion and Alessandro's fury had erupted. "Compassion is for the weak," he'd yelled, and grabbed the back of Riario's head, slamming his face down onto the table with a sickening thump.

Lucrezia had leapt to her feet, her chair falling backwards to the floor. Her heart was pounding and she reached for the nearest weapon, a rather blunt if elegant silver knife.

"Lucrezia," her father scolded. "Do not embarrass me."

"You should not treat him so," Lucrezia said, addressing Alessandro. Riario raised damp eyes to her, gave her a wry smile of thanks. A purpling bruise marred his forehead but he did not seem badly hurt.

"Please excuse her. She forgets her manners," her father said, and that was the end of that dinner.

After that night, Riario had sought her out of his own accord. They'd drink coffee, sip wine, see a show occasionally. They'd talk, honestly, about the pressures of the family and the expectations placed on them. Whenever he'd been beaten, Riario would find his way to her door, and Lucrezia would take him in. She'd stroke his hair as he lay in her lap, trying to reconcile the ruthless businessman she'd heard so much about with this damaged man who needed someone to tell him he was worthwhile.

She began to understand why Riario behaved with cruelty. He could not fail Alessandro. He led by fear as he had been taught to by that monster. He brought fast cars and expensive suits not just because he liked them, but because he was trying to construct an image worthy of respect, and wealth was the key to that, or so he believed. But no amount of money earned or spent could convince him he was lovable, and, in turn, he mostly attracted the shallow or desperate. Lucrezia wasn't even sure he actually slept with half of them; a paparazzi photo of them heading into an exclusive hotel suited both Riario and his latest fling, bolstering both their images. Anything else was gravy.

One night Alessandro hosted a dinner party. There were other guests present than she and Francesco, so Lucrezia was fairly sure that Riario would not be given a dressing down tonight, not in public. Still, Alessandro was obnoxious and condescending, showing his misogynistic side. So before dessert she excused herself and headed upstairs to the library. She threw open the casement windows and took a deep breath of the chilly night air.

"Are you all right?"

Lucrezia looked over her shoulder. "Yes. I just needed some air."

Riario nodded. He opened the globe which took pride of place in the centre of the room, revealing the bar within. He poured two brandies and brought one over to Lucrezia. For a time they both gazed out into the darkness, though it was never truly dark of course. Light pollution, Riario said once; he'd visited the Scottish Highlands on a business trip and had been awed by the amount of stars that could be seen when not drowned out by streetlights, residential and business lighting, traffic, and neon advertisements.

Riario put aside his glass and placed one hand on her back, rubbing small circles against the red silk of her dress. She smiled, leaning into his touch like a cat. His hands were warm, his presence comforting. "When the winds are breathing low," he said softly, his lips almost brushing her ear. "And the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee."

Lucrezia couldn't place the poem, and while it appealed, with its gentle rhythm - or was that partly in the recitation, in the rich timbre of Riario's voice? - she was startled by the intimate nature of it. She shifted position and Riario released her, folding his arms behind his back as she turned to face him.

"Have I overstepped?" he asked.

She shook her head. "What is that?" she asked. "The poem."

"Shelley. _The Indian Serenade_."

Lucrezia stared into his warm brown eyes. There'd been moments she'd seen him look at her longer than was polite, a few touches that were almost out of place as he helped her on with her coat, for example. But she hadn't expected this. Yet the moment felt heavy with passion, and he looked on her now with both trepidation and longing. She had the power to return or spurn the feelings he was finally confessing to. His heart was in her hands.

"Do you?" she asked, wanting to make sure, wanting to give herself a moment to think. "Dream of me?"

He gave one decisive nod. "This comes as a surprise to you."

"Yes."

"An unpleasant one?"

She shook her head. "No. No, Girolamo. I'm flattered."

He scoffed. "Ah. The polite refusal."

How dare he interrupt. She stepped forward so that the lapels of his jacket almost brushed the silk of her dress. "I am flattered," she said, "that you, who has merely to snap his fingers to bring any society beauty to his side, looks at me that way."

He frowned. "You're beautiful," he said. "Determined. Clever. You know that, don't you?"

She shrugged. "The men who pursue me tell I'm pretty. But they have one eye on my face and another on my fortune. They don't mean half of what they say. They don't really care about me, who I am."

"I care."

"I know." She lifted one hand and cupped his chin. "And I care about you too."

He sighed. "But?"

"We shouldn't," she said, not that they could not, only that they shouldn't, and Riario took that for an excuse to try and persuade her.

"Because you're my cousin? Have you never read Austen? European history? There were two marriages between cousins within our family within the last hundred years you know."

He'd researched this! He was serious enough about it consider possible objections and construct arguments against them. She was off balance and this threw her further.

"It's not that," she said. Not just that, anyway. Alessandro and Francesco would not stand for it. "The family would never allow it."

"Together we could stand against them."

He had a point. Alone each was under a patriarch's thumb; together they could band together against either or both men, and Lucrezia was growing tired of Francesco's interference in her life and Alessandro's animosity towards her, her father, and Riario.

Riario misinterpreted her silence as she considered this. He lowered his gaze, stepping back and out of her grasp. "Forgive me. I misjudged the situation."

She reached out to grasp his sleeve. "I had not thought of it," she said. "I do not dwell on things I think impossible. And you, my cousin, my father's enemy; it seemed so impossible I had never considered it. But now you speak aloud of it..."

He lifted his chin, stared into her eyes. Hope shone in his gaze, his lips parted slightly, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Yes?"

Lucrezia swallowed her nerves. "There is one way to find out."

She closed the distance between them, throwing her arms around his neck. Her mouth closed on his. That gentle kiss was the sweetest she'd ever had.

Riario didn't give her time to relish it, returning the kiss with ardour. He was eager, pressing his lips against hers over and over, his hands at her back once more, holding her against him. She tried to control the moment, wanting to savour it, to see if she could truly feel romantic attraction for him, rather than platonic affection.

He pulled away breathless, raised an eyebrow. Lucrezia nodded solemnly. This time she got her wish; he was gentle now, letting her experience the warmth and softness of his mouth against hers. Lucrezia felt giddy with delight. When they parted again, she gave him a warm smile.

"What now?"

"I ought to take you to dinner," he said. "An actual date."

Although she still had concerns, Lucrezia liked the sound of that. No one who saw them together would know it was a romantic liaison rather than one of their regular get-togethers. "That would be nice. Although -"

"Although?" he prompted.

"I don't think we should tell anyone yet," she said. She saw the pain blossom in his rich brown eyes, his lips thinning in his displeasure, but he'd become adept at concealing his emotions and these signs were gone in an instant. If she hadn't been looking for them, she'd never have seen the hurt at all.

"That's probably for the best," he agreed. He gave her a slight bow. "Text me the day and time you would prefer. I'll make the rest of the arrangements."

She was torn between feeling glad that he was leaving her to make the next move - if she wanted to - and anxious that given this choice she might back out not from reluctance but purely from anxiety that Riario apparently lacked. She knew if she didn't respond within a day or so, they'd move on, pretending this evening had not happened. It would make things awkward for a while, but they would get over it.

Riario had gone to his room when she and Francesco took their leave. She replayed the evening in her mind on the ride home, gazing out of the window at the passing streetlights and paying no heed to her father's complaints about his brother and the other guests.

When she was alone in her bedroom, she pulled out her phone, and, before fear could change her mind, sent a message to Riario. _Wednesday. Pick me up at 7pm. Choose somewhere nice. I'll be wearing red._

* 

Wednesday saw her wearing an elegant crimson dress of her own design, seated at a fine table at one of the better restaurants. The dinner was initially awkward, the food barely tasted. He held her hand across the table, rubbing at her knuckles with his thumb.

"It's not dinner I want," he said. His free hand roamed beneath the table, squeezing at her knee.

"We can eat later," she returned.

"Are you certain?"

She drained her champagne with her free hand. "I am." Alessandro was staying with a friend in the Hamptons overnight. Riario could take her home and, well, _take_ her.

"Then let's skip dessert _cara mia_ ," he said, his voice low and rough with desire, and they left the restaurant.

* 

Afterwards, he held her close, stroking her hair. "Do you regret it?" he asked in Italian.

"No!" she responded in kind. "Why would you even ask that?"

He sighed. "I often regret the choices I have had to make."

"But not this?" she asked, distraught at the thought.

He shook his head and kissed her forehead. "No. Not this. Never this."

She blinked away ecstatic tears and Riario stroked her cheek. Don't cry," he begged, switching back to English.

"I cry when I'm happy," she said and he gave a soft laugh and kissed her as if his very life depended on it.

* 

One date followed another. They exchanged stories of their fathers and the pain caused. They shared each other's distresses and joys. Lucrezia trusted Riario in a way she'd always been reluctant to trust anyone before. Riario would hold her hand, stare into her eyes - sapphire depths, he'd say and it never sounded like teasing - and they would need no words for long minutes.

"You are more than I ever thought to have in my life," he said once. "More than I deserve."

"Don't say that," she soothed. "You deserve happiness."

"You are the only woman I have ever truly loved," he said, and it was the first time he'd called it love, and Lucrezia, stunned, pulled him close, her palms against his cheeks, and kissed him long and hard.

Lucrezia was always enthralled at the difference in the public persona Riario displayed - charming, arrogant, elegant - compared with the times they were alone. When he was free to be himself he was less certain of himself – not of his intellect but of his own worth. There was no arrogance then, but she saw a quiet strength beneath his insecurities that had let him survive Alessandro's cruelty.

He gave himself to her fully, shared his deepest secrets and fears. She reciprocated, drawing on his example to show her true self. She was more timid than her public persona, the fashion-conscious jetsetter who was the apple of many a man's eye. She wanted someone she could trust, and there were few people she could.

At her insistence, fearing reprisals from Alessandro and Francesco, both she and Riario continued to court others in public. Riario had only reluctantly agreed to this, and they made arrangements for an open relationship that neither of them wanted or liked, but was, for a short time, necessary. 

Riario had plans that would make him financially independent from his father in the future, and then he would join forces with Lucrezia and her business, and together they could oust her father from her life. They would be together, just the two of them, in time.

So it came to be that Lucrezia became entangled with a businessman named Lorenzo, a powerful man recently divorced from his wife. Lorenzo professed his devotion and though she did not share it, Lucrezia encouraged him. He not only brought her gifts but his presence brought her publicity, and publicity was always good for business. It was a satisfactory arrangement.

There was something else too; Lorenzo confided he had information about Alessandro, blackmail that could destroy him and leave nothing for his nephew to inherit.

If it was true, Lucrezia had to know it. She could protect Riario from the fallout, and better, maybe leverage the blackmail against Alessandro directly, securing a settlement for Riario and moving their plan forward by months, if not years. Lorenzo was tight-lipped after his initial revelation but Lucrezia was sure her charms would make him hand over the material soon enough. Until then she decided to keep quiet and not mention it to Riario, lest he take matters into his own hands.

Meanwhile, Riario toyed with a few socialites, but his boredom was evident. Then Lucrezia saw him take up with his assistant, Zita. She was dark skinned, regal, with a quiet dignity to her that made Lucrezia jealous for reasons she couldn't immediately fathom. Zita was considerate, always at Riario's side, always looking out for his interests.

Zita was not a woman Alessandro would approve of, but it was obvious that Riario was not dating her for appearances sake. Lucrezia saw the way he looked at Zita, his gaze softening, his tone low and encouraging whenever he spoke to her. Never angry, never bored, not with Zita. He treated her the way he'd only ever before treated Lucrezia. Now she had reason to be jealous, to hate this rival.

"I want you to break up with Zita," Lucrezia declared one evening, spritzing her cleavage with perfume while, behind her, Riario pressed kisses to her shoulder. He frowned at her, and she watched his reflected gaze in the dressing table mirror.

"I would rather not."

Lucrezia spun on the stool. "Why?"

He folded his arms behind his back and lifted his chin defiantly. "I like her. She is discreet and trustworthy. Why should I toss her aside?"

She did not want to give voice to her jealousy. Despite the trust she'd given him, she feared his affection for Zita, and she would not let him know how deeply she cared. She did not want Riario to have that hold over her. "This is a partnership. We must both make sacrifices."

Riario made a noise of disquiet. "Perhaps," he said, with the faux brightness that always meant he was furious, "I am tried of making sacrifices."

They were not ready to move against Alessandro and Francesco. Riario could surely not mean they should risk everything by making their relationship public!

Lucrezia stood. "What do you want from me?"

"I'm sick of playing the game," he said. "I want you. I want to be open about it, to go public. I'm ready. You, well, in your own time."

Lucrezia shook her head. "No. Not yet," she said, though he meant her to do it now.

"I shall only give up Zita if you break up with Lorenzo."

Lorenzo was her only hope of uncovering the blackmail. "I cannot," she said.

"Will not." Riario gave her a look that made her shiver. "Then neither will I stop seeing Zita."

Lucrezia remained silent. Riario looked away. "I am no longer hungry. Go to dinner if you want to. I will not be joining you." 

He left, slamming the door behind him. Lucrezia lay her head down on her dressing table, blinking back tears of anger and grief.

* 

Lorenzo continued to ply Lucrezia with gifts, and began promising that he would soon share the blackmail material with her. She was getting tired of waiting, and his brother, Giuliano, was becoming suspicious of Lucrezia - she hated Giuliano as much as he hated her, though Lorenzo seemed oblivious to the tension.

To her horror one night, while a storm raged outside, Lorenzo, a little drunk, got clumsily down on one knee and proposed. Staggered, she thought fast.

"I need time to consider," she said, clasping his cheeks between her palms. "This is so sudden." She tried to sound delighted. Lorenzo seemed convinced.

She didn't go home. Alessandro was out at a charity benefit, but Riario was supposed to be home. The front of the house was in darkness as she climbed the steps, the rain soaking her through before she could take out the key Riario had given her and get the door open.

Her footsteps echoed in the lobby as she climbed the stairs. The oppressive silence of the large house made her reluctant to call out. Maybe Riario had gone to bed early. She'd just check, and if he was asleep she'd leave and they could talk in the morning. If he was lying awake as she knew she did so many nights, they would talk now. A decision had to be made. She would tell him about Lorenzo's hold over Alessandro and they would make a plan together.

She crept along the corridor to Riario's bedroom. She peered into the room but it was in darkness, his silken sheets neat on the empty bed. Maybe he was sitting in the library, reading by the small lamp at his elbow.

She moved to the library and peered around the half-open door, expecting to see him reading or dozing in the overstuffed armchair by the fireplace. What she saw instead made her blood run cold.

In the warm glow of candlelight, Riario was standing near the window. He had his arms around Zita, her head pressed into his shoulder while he caressed her hair. His eyes were closed, in what Lucrezia presumed was contentment.

Lucrezia bit back a sob. She knew this went on, she knew she was doing the same with Lorenzo, but to be confronted with it was a different matter. It felt almost like a physical blow. She spun on her heel and ran, almost stumbling down the stairs in her haste, dashing across the lobby and fumbling at the door, not stopping until she was finally outside. 

She stood in the rain for a long moment, letting the water hide her tears. She knew what she would do.

The next morning Lucrezia swept into Riario's office, a swirl of bright colours and heady perfume, determined he would not see an ounce of despair in her. "I have something to say," she said, as Riario got to his feet, cutting him off before he could greet her. Whatever words he had been about to speak died on his lips and he gazed at her with a frown creasing his brow.

She swallowed. "Last night, Lorenzo asked me to marry me."

He tipped his head, and his voice was tight when he asked, "And?"

"I said yes," she lied. "I'm going to marry him. It's over between us." She wouldn't say she was sorry, she couldn't bring herself to say goodbye. She blinked rapidly and left before her cold facade could crumble. She went directly to Lorenzo's office and told him she accepted his proposal.

* 

Less than three months later, she caught Lorenzo back in his ex-wife's bed. Lorenzo chased her down the next day, sheepish, and admitted he still loved Clarice and that they were going to try and reconcile. As for the blackmail he'd claimed to have in his possession, he confessed that it was nothing but rumours, no hard evidence, just a ploy to assist in his pursuit of her. She slapped Lorenzo and left the restaurant, furious with herself.

Lied to, dumped, and having lost Riario, Lucrezia fell apart. She went back to Italy for a year, trying to forget everything that had happened.

At last she went back home, though still avoiding Riario and her uncle, and keeping her father at a distance. She found an apartment and furnished it to her own taste. She threw herself back into the running of her business. She met Leo, and had been enchanted by his enthusiasm. He made her feel alive again.

And then Alessandro had named Riario as his heir before dropping down dead. And now Riario was back in her life and Lucrezia wasn't sure which way was up.


	3. By some such plot of mingled good and ill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo suggests Lucrezia romance Riario with an eye to regaining control of her company, but a conversation with Riario makes him reconsider the ethics of such a plan.

"I hate him!" Lucrezia tossed her handbag onto the sideboard. Leo paused, paintbrush in hand, to glance over at her.

"I doubt that." He touched the brush to the canvas and, with a few flicks, branches became visible in the trees which nestled along the riverside. Lucrezia always admired his talent, even if she wasn't keen on him painting within her luxurious apartment. "You said you were close once, but you didn't tell me how close."

She perched on the edge of the Chesterfield sofa to pull off her heeled shoes. "What do you mean?"

He gave her a disapproving look. "I might not see the world as others do, but I'm not blind. The way he looks at you when he thinks you aren't looking at him. How flustered you get around him. You were more than cousins."

"I do not get flustered!" Lucrezia toyed with one dangling earring. It was true she'd never been completely honest with Leo about Riario. That wasn't a part of her life she wanted to revisit. Telling him about Lorenzo had been difficult enough.

Leo gave a snort and ignored her for a while, working on the countryside scene.

"It's over," Lucrezia said at last. "Was over before what happened with Lorenzo."

"If you say so. Which is a pity."

Lucrezia frowned. "Why would you say that?"

Leo squinted, adding a few more details to the painting before he answered. "I read over all the documents pertaining to your business, your uncle's will, Riario's shares." At her surprised look he said, "Again, I'm eccentric, not stupid."

She stood and leant her head against his shoulder in what she hoped was a placating manner. "And?"

"Your father and your uncle share some rather old fashioned ideas. I'm not a lawyer," Leo said, "but it seems to me that if you were to marry Riario, you, as the original majority stakeholder of the business, would gain control of his shares. It would also mean you would gain access to certain assets belonging to Riario, assets which you'd retain half of even if you got divorced. But in the meantime, he couldn't oust you from your business - and I can probably find a way for you to ensure you got most, if not all, the shares in the divorce."

Lucrezia pulled away, shocked. Leo was a gentle soul, a vegetarian who donated to animal shelters, and cried at happy endings in movies. To hear him cold-bloodedly lay out a plot to damn near ruin her cousin astounded her.

"You think I should seduce him?" she said at last.

Leo shrugged. "I'm just saying it's an option."

"And what about us?"

Another shrug. "I've dated a couple of actors in my time. I can handle seeing my girlfriend kissing another man."

Lucrezia moved to the sideboard and poured two brandies. Seduce Riario? Marry him? Wed him only to divorce him later? She wasn't sure if she could be so heartless. She took a sip of brandy and handed the other glass to Leo.

"You underestimate me," Leo said, running his fingers over her hand before he took the glass. "Don't make the same mistake with Riario, whatever you decide to do. He's dangerous by all accounts. And I can probably think of a few other ways to ruin his reputation."

Lucrezia leaned in and kissed him, mostly to shut him up. Girolamo had a cruel streak that she'd accepted, but Leo was supposed to be different. She did not want to hear him plotting, least of all against a man she'd once loved dearly.

* 

Leo blinked a few times but the vision of Girolamo Riario refused to vanish. Never one to be intimidated however, Leo pasted on his best eccentric artist smile and wandered across the store, past the oil paints and other art supplies for those encouraged by his genius to try painting for themselves, and over to the artwork for sale.

"Good morning," Leo said. Riario glanced at him and then back at the painting he was examining. Unlike Riario, all sharp lines and dark clothing, stark but elegant, the painting was full of warmth and colour. A young woman was being wooed by a gentleman. She was seated on the edge of a fountain which featured stone horses rising from the water, while around them the city blurred into the background, leaving the couple as the focus of the piece.

"Florence?" Riario asked.

"Sort of," Leo confessed. At Riario's raised eyebrow, he explained, "It's a bit of Florence and a bit of Rome and a bit of Paris, here, in the cityscape. I didn't want it to be a particular fountain in a particular city at a particular time period. I wanted to capture the essence of romance."

Riario tipped his head, gazing at the painting again. "That's why the clothing you chose doesn't all come from the same historical period."

"Exactly. I tried to keep it neutral at first, and a man's dark suit is fairly innocuous," Leo said, running an appraising eye over Riario once more. "But the female form demanded something colourful, so I tried to mix and match some of the most beautiful styles I could think of."

"It's a nightmare for any historian," Riario remarked.

Leo laughed. "History is a lie told by the victors, and in the end, the best story wins."

Riario gave him a look that made Leo want to take a step back, though he held his ground. There was something dangerous, and yet compelling, about Riario. "I don't disagree," Riario said. "The woman. Based on Lucrezia?"

Leo shook his head. "Before I met her. Loosely based on some of my favourite females by the Old Masters."

Riario gestured. "The background lacks detail."

"Intentionally. The focus is on the lovers. When you're in love, the world melts away." Leo heard the wistfulness in his own voice and cleared his throat, trying for a more businesslike demeanour. "I didn't think this was your style."

"And what do you know of my style?" His tone was more playful than Leo had expected.

Leo tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, drumming the fingers of his free hand against his thigh. "Um, I saw your house, at the wake, or um, whatever you call it. The artwork in the lobby - hallway? Not like this."

"It was my father's house then," Riario said softly. "Now that it is mine, I may well redecorate."

Leo brightened at that. "You should. Honouring your family and their vision is important, but you ought to express yourself." He glanced over his shoulder. "I was going to make coffee. Would you like one?"

Riario stole a glance at his watch and shrugged. "Yes, I rather think I would."

Pleased, Leo went to the back room which was part storeroom (there was a basement for the rest of the art supplies), part kitchen area. There were two sinks; the larger one, stained with paint, was used for washing his brushes and palettes, while the small sink was reserved for hand washing and filling the kettle.

There was a narrow dining table against one wall flanked by three chairs - all the same style but all varnished in different shades of brown and with different colour seat cushions - and to the side of that a door leading to the toilet. A large waste bin in one corner was almost overflowing with torn brown wrapping paper. Sunlight streaming though the narrow window above the sinks and through the glass panel of the rear door made it more cosy than cramped.

Riario took a seat without a word. Leo had expected more condescension to show on his face. Lucrezia always made a noise of disgust when she visited his shop. There were a few stains, and it was sometimes a bit untidy in this room, but Leo kept it scrupulously clean and religiously tidied the store front. Disease and dishevelment were bad for business.

Leo poured coffee into two clean mugs bearing his store logo. He added several spoons of sugar to his own, though Riario declined both sugar and milk.

"Much as I'd like to think so, I doubt you're here to purchase some of my original work," Leo said, sitting down opposite Riario and stretching his legs out.

Riario took a sip of coffee. "Much as I might like to see more of your work, you're correct."

"You're here about Lucrezia."

Riario nodded. "You know she is my cousin. And that we're now business partners."

"She's not happy about that. The business part," Leo amended.

"She's the only family I really have," Riario said. "My Uncle Francesco despises me, my father is dead, and I never knew my mother."

Leo almost choked on his coffee. When he'd recovered, he leant forward, eyes filled with sympathy. "Nor did I. It's hard to explain to someone else how that feels. I always wonder why my mother couldn't be part of my life. If she wanted to keep me but couldn't. If she didn't want me at all. If she's still alive..." He broke off. "I'm sorry. Lucrezia says I'm too open with people."

Riario gave a sad smile. "I understand all too well. Perhaps I have the advantage here then; my mother is dead. I will never know her. For you, the uncertainty is a double edged sword. Will you ever meet her, and will she be proud?" He took refuge in his drink and Leo sat back, frowning.

"I'm sure she would be. I'm sure your mother would be proud of you. You're rich, intelligent, handsome." Leo coughed. "Sorry. More over sharing." He wasn't ashamed of being bisexual but society sometimes insisted he should be. "Lucrezia thinks so too," he offered, remembering he'd told Lucrezia to seduce Riario and trying to lay some groundwork.

Riario shook his head. "I don't know what she's told you but it's true that we were close, once upon a time," he said with regret. "But she turned on me. She took up with a man named Lorenzo. It was a relationship which I couldn't support. We haven't really spoken since. Not until the funeral."

Leo sighed. "I've heard about Lorenzo. It sounds like a big mistake. You were right to be concerned."

"That's of little comfort."

Leo wasn't sure what to say. He tried for an encouraging, "Now you're working together, that's like a second chance."

Riario considered this for a moment. "I suppose so. And I'm satisfied that you are no Lorenzo." He stood and Leo followed suit. "You're not quite what I expected."

Leo was used to surprising people and he flashed a dazzling smile. "Neither are you," he said with complete honesty. He'd heard a few stories from Lucrezia, he'd seen tabloid stories - illustrated lies, he called them – and so he was aware of the public persona Riario had created and relentlessly paraded. He'd known Riario wasn't exactly the man that was shown to the world, but he hadn't expected to have anything in common with him, aside from Lucrezia. He certainly hadn't expected to like him.

"I should go. Let you get back to your work." Riario held out his hand and Leo shook it, restraining himself from hugging Riario instead.

"Drop by any time," Leo said, and he meant it. Riario gave what Leo felt to be a genuine smile, and left the shop.


	4. Deceit, that loves the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucrezia attempts to woo Riario. Riario however wants revenge and puts his own plan into play. Leo becomes suspicious.

Lucrezia sashayed over to the elegant desk Riario had chosen for himself. Situated at the left side of the room, it sat perpendicular to her centrally placed desk. The placement had necessitated the relegation of her favourite abstract sculpture to one corner of the room, though he was right that overall she had floor space to spare.

He glanced up from his computer and she handed Riario a magazine with the relevant page clearly marked. He raised an eyebrow.

"Our latest ad campaign," she said. "You will want input into future endeavours, but I hope this current effort meets with your approval."

He opened the glossy pages and studied the advert. Lucrezia sidled around to lean over his shoulder. She pointed one manicured finger at the quotation accompanying the photograph as an excuse to put her arm around him.

"We had a lot of discussion about the exact wording. The ad company sent us five designs before we chose this one."

Riario nodded. "It suits your image well."

She drew back and took the seat in front of his desk, crossing her legs demurely at the ankles and tucking her elbows back to show off her cleavage to her full advantage. "Girolamo. I am sorry I reacted so badly to your inheriting the shares. You were right that we had planned something like this. I have become used to doing things alone, and perhaps I have become distrustful. I know things ended badly between us, and for that I am sorry. Can we start again? As partners." She hesitated before adding, as if she'd only just realised her misstep, "Business partners."

Riario leaned back in his leather chair, eyeing her suspiciously. "We can try." He gave her a wry smile. "You are still so very beautiful and clever. I would be a fool not to work with you rather than against you."

She bit at her lip, knowing how much he liked that. Then she stood. "Perhaps we could have lunch later this week."

"I'll consult my schedule and let Angela know when I will be available."

He was playing it close to his chest, as was she, but it was a start. She smiled and went back to her own desk, trying to ignore the arousal she felt at the thought of dining with him again, of his hand on her knee beneath the table…

* 

Leo was waiting at the table when Lucrezia arrived at the restaurant. He was playing with his knife and fork; Lucrezia got the impression the fork was flirting with the knife, who was playing hard to get. That was the sort of thing that happened when you were around Leo. His wild imagination was infectious.

He looked up and grinned as the waiter showed her to seat. "I ordered wine," he said proudly, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

She hid a grimace and took a sip, pleasantly surprised. She was rubbing off on him too. That wine tasting weekend had paid off. "Sorry I'm late," she said.

"The high stakes of the fashion industry," Leo said, and it was hard to tell if he was mocking her.

They made small talk, ordered some food. Leo was perusing the dessert menu before he said, "Riario came to see me."

Lucrezia frowned. She swallowed the last bite of her food before she answered. "What did he want?"

"I'm not sure. We talked about art, and about you." Leo stabbed one finger at the menu. "How's the cheesecake?"

"I don't know. What about me?" Keeping Leo on topic was always a struggle and she tried to hide her frustration.

Leo chewed his lower lip. "Maybe the champagne poached pears...."

Lucrezia reached over and gripped his hand until he met her gaze. With sweetness that would put the desserts to shame she said, "Riario. What did he say?"

"Italian name, but he sounds almost as English as I do," Leo said. "Posher, mind."

Lucrezia sighed. Riario was a mess of contradictions as she well knew. "He was educated abroad."

"Nothing but the best," Leo said. "Except where it counts, of course."

"What do you mean?"

Leo put the menu down and held her hand between both of his, sympathy visible in his hazel eyes. "He says he never knew his mother."

Oh for goodness sake! Five minutes with Riario and Leo was identifying and sympathizing with him.

Yes, Leo liked everybody, unless they didn't like him. And most people liked Leo, those who could stand his more frustrating habits. She was used to Leo charming people; even those who hated him tended to melt in his actual presence. There was an air of an excitable Labrador about him, complete with kicked puppy dog eyes when necessary, and even Riario probably wasn't immune to the cheerful adorableness Leo had in spades. Still, she hadn't expected Leo to feel charitable towards Riario, given the circumstances.

She supposed she ought to be thankful Leo didn't have a crush on Riario, because who could blame him? Those huge, dark brown eyes, that black, almost raven hair, those cheekbones, that cultured voice. Throw in some familial angst and on second thoughts, was it any wonder Leo found Riario more of a potential friend than a threat?

"That's true," Lucrezia said carefully.

"His father's a douchebag. You said so." Leo sat back and shook his head. "He can use that education and accent and expensive suit to hide it from the world, but he's been hurt. I can see it."

Leo and his artistic insight. "Yes, I suppose so."

"Did you hurt him?"

What kind of question was that? Lucrezia tightened her grip. "He hurt me more."

Leo stared at her and she felt as if he were trying to read her mind. She released him and sat back in her chair.

"I don't think we ought to go ahead with the seduction," Leo said, taking a sip of wine. It gave her a moment of relief before he said, "But I haven't yet thought of another way to ensure you keep the company. So at least play nice with him for a while. You can do that, can't you? You are his cousin. You do care about him on some level."

She took a long swallow of wine and nodded. "Yes," she said, without clarification, trying to hide the maelstrom of emotion that was whirling inside her.

"Whatever happens, you should try and be friends."

If she seduced and betrayed Riario the way Lorenzo had betrayed her, Riario would never forgive her. They would be enemies. It would be war.

Lucrezia nodded. "All right," she said, and Leo wasn't a mind reader because he didn't see that, in truth, she wanted to continue to explore her relationship with Riario. Not solely to gain control of the company, nor to hurt him in payment for the breakup he'd caused with his ultimatum, but because, despite herself, she thought she still had feelings for him.

Leo grinned. "Let's skip dessert and go home," he said, and he had no clue what those words did to her.

* 

The next day, Riario used every ounce of his charm to secure a better deal than the one Lucrezia already had in place, and left the meeting feeling pleased with himself. He found a quiet corner in a coffee shop and sat sipping his espresso and checking his emails.

When he couldn't distract himself any longer, he allowed himself to review the plan. Inheriting the shares had forced him back into Lucrezia's life, which was a vital first step. Now he would teach her a lesson in playing with people's hearts.

He had refused to break up with Zita purely to test Lucrezia; he truly loved her and did not want their relationship to be a secret any longer. He expected that, when push came to shove, Lucrezia would choose him over Lorenzo. He had been certain that Lucrezia would end the relationship with Lorenzo and come to Riario ready to go public.

How humiliated Riario was when the opposite happened. She'd broken his heart by declaring her intent to wed Lorenzo; it was a relief that she had not let him speak first. He'd been about to confess the truth of the matter, to tell her that, like a lovesick fool, he'd sacrificed for her where she had not been willing to do so for him. How little she must have cared, though he had loved her with all his heart.

It was a pity that Leo was so likeable, because one way or another, Riario intended to end that relationship. Lucrezia's betrayal had left him grief-stricken and wretched, and he wanted revenge. He'd already set something in motion.

* 

"Something you need to see," Leo said the moment Lucrezia came into the apartment. As she approached, Leo tossed a picture onto the table. Lucrezia picked it up, the blood draining from her face. She was seated on Riario's lap, her blouse open, skirt hiked up above her knees. Riario held her close, his lips upon her neck, while she tipped her head back in ecstasy.

It took a moment for her to run through all the memories of her affair with Riario to realise this was a fake. "It's not real," she said.

"I know," Leo said. " _I_ could do a better job with Photoshop. I could do a better job _painting_ this." He proceeded to point out a few obvious flaws in the mock-up though Lucrezia barely paid attention. He seemed so angry, and worse, so sad.

"Riario did this to try and break us apart," she said when Leo fell silent.

He nodded. "I assume so. But there's one thing that's not fake," he said. "The way you looked at it. When you saw it, you thought, maybe for an instant, it was real. A photo taken when you were with him."

There seemed little point denying it. "Yes."

Leo gave a wry smile. "You looked so happy. Those memories must be special."

She put one hand on his knee. "That's all they are. Memories."

Leo was not easily misled. "A relationship like that leaves its mark. He's marked you, and you have marked him in a way that is beyond anything we have. And now he's back in your life, and you can't help but wonder if you made a mistake in walking away."

Lucrezia shook her head. "He would not commit to me," she said. "He left me no choice but to walk away." She leaned in, kissed his cheek. "Leo. I love you." The words sounded hollow to her ears.

Leo tossed the photo aside. "I should never have suggested you seduce or otherwise try to play Riario. We all deserve better than that. Stop it."

"I haven't done anything wrong," she protested. Yet she couldn't stop thinking about Riario, reliving their time together, comparing him to Leo.

Leo grabbed his leather jacket from the chair where he habitually threw it whenever he came in. "Zo called. He wants me to go to a club with him. I said I would. Don't wait up."

Lucrezia watched as he left. He didn't slam the door but there was a foreboding click as he pulled it behind him.

She picked up the photo and tore it into pieces, sobbing as she gathered up the remnants to throw them away. Damn Riario. Damn him!

* 

Lucrezia swept into the office like a hurricane. Angela quailed in the face of her fury, taking her seat as her boss barrelled past, forgoing offering her coffee or the phone messages she had ready on the desk.

Riario merely raised an eyebrow as Lucrezia came to glower at him. In fact he leaned back in his chair, relaxing rather than putting himself on guard as he ought to.

"How dare you!"

Riario feigned innocence. "How dare I what?" 

"That photo! That lie!" She wagged a finger in his direction, the fluorescent light reflecting from her magenta nail polish. "Don't you pretend you didn't have anything to do with it."

Riario smirked. "Did Leo like it?"

"Damn you! Leo doesn't deserve to get hurt! Do you know he actually likes you?"

At that Riario had the grace to look somewhat guilty, though he soon recovered. "He was not my intended target."

"I am."

"Yes." Riario got to his feet with a slowness that was more alarming than if he'd jumped up. "You need to learn something, Lucrezia."

She glared at him. "What?"

"Not to toy with people's emotions."

Her fingers dug into her palms as she struggled to control her anger. "Me? You were the one seeing Zita!"

He looked at her as if she'd slapped him. "You were the one planning to wed Lorenzo!"

"I never loved him!" The words were out before she could stop them and Riario fell silent, looking at her with surprise. She knew he couldn't say the same, for he'd cared about Zita. Well he ought to know why she'd kept up the charade with Lorenzo. "He said he had blackmail that could ruin Alessandro. I was trying to find out what it was, except it turned out to be a lie to seduce me."

Riario perched on the edge of the desk. Sounding more composed than he probably was, he said, "I'm glad that you never loved him. It must not have hurt so badly when he went back to Clarice. When you left the country I thought you must be heartbroken."

 _I was_ , she thought. _But not over him_. She shook her head. "I just had to get away."

She made to leave now, but he caught her wrist. "Lucrezia," he said, and she heard the strain in his voice. "You were trying to protect me? From the supposed blackmail."

She nodded.

"And you know that I loved you."

She said nothing.

He let go of her and she stayed, unmoving, for a long moment. He looked at her the way he did whenever he'd fallen foul of Alessandro and, as then, she found an irresistible desire to comfort him. Before she was even aware of it, she had wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. He put one hand lightly on the small of her back but there was no coercion in his touch.

She pulled away awkwardly while Riario remained seated on the desk. "I wish things had turned out differently," she said, and she meant his falling in love with Zita as much as her affair with Lorenzo, for they'd both been behind the dissolution of her relationship with Riario. 

She walked out of the office, heels clicking against the polished tile, blinking away unwanted tears.

* 

Leo was slumped on the sofa, channel hopping, when Lucrezia came home. She perched next to him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He paused on a rock station, where a group of musicians were jumping around enthusiastically to their own rather loud song.

"How was work?" he asked, not taking his eyes from the screen.

"Fine," she lied. "Did you sell any paintings?"

"No." Leo became bored of the song and flipped around some more, ending up on a shopping channel. "I sold a few canvases. And I've got a meeting tomorrow with someone who might want to commission a piece."

Lucrezia smiled. "That's good news."

Leo turned off the television and sat up, almost dislodging her from the sofa. "How's your seduction going?"

Lucrezia paled. "I...I thought we weren't going to do that."

"Then why do you smell like him?" Leo regarded her with suspicion in his eyes. "I told you I wouldn't be jealous but that was before I knew how in love you were with him. Then I said you should stop and you haven't. And now you're lying to me."

She shook her head, resisting the urge to press her jacket sleeve to her nose and see if she could inhale Riario's scent "Leo. It's not like that. I hugged him." A half-truth. "You want me to be friends with him, don't you?"

Leo got to his feet. "History is a lie. There's no excuse for living one in the present." He grabbed his coat and it only added to the déjà vu when he said, "I'm going out for a beer with Zo and I'm staying at his place tonight."

"Leo." She wasn't sure what to say if he gave her the chance to speak, but she had to try.

He paused at the door and for one moment she thought he would stay. "Maybe we rushed into the engagement," he said. "I need to think about that, and I hope you will too."

Lucrezia watched him leave, fighting tears. She cared about Leo, she thought she loved him. But Riario, God help her, how could she be falling in love with him all over again? And what could she do about any of it?


	5. Let thy love in kisses rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, confessions, break-ups and make-ups. A romance novel demands a happily ever after.

There were flowers on her desk when she went to work the next morning, one red rose professing attraction, nestled amongst a cluster of white tulips signifying an apology. There was no card. She didn't need one. Leo would have sent a hand drawn sketch accompanying a single rose, because he valued creativity over tradition. Riario relied upon more tried and true methods of expressing his feelings, be that bouquets or sonnets.

That brought to mind the poem again. How did it go?

_"I die! I faint! I fail!_  
Let thy love in kisses rain  
On my lips and eyelids pale." 

Lucrezia had purchased a book of Shelley's poems when she was with Riario, one that included _The Indian Serenade_. She'd left it behind when she fled, had lost track of it amongst the boxes she'd put into storage. She looked up the poem online instead, and while it lacked elegance to read it on a screen rather than from a leather-bound book, and lacked the depth she remembered when hearing it from Riario's lips, it was still moving.

He'd chosen that above all other poems to profess his love. Such ecstasy, an agony of spirit revealed within the words, so deep was the love the poet had for his beloved. _The Nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart;— As I must on thine_.

Had Riario truly felt that way? (And if so, why he had he let himself be so captivated by Zita?)

Had Lucrezia ever had it in her to return his feelings with the same vigour? 

And now, after all that had happened, when he'd hurt her, when there was Leo to consider, what was she to think? She swung her chair backwards and forwards, lost in thought.

Riario didn't come to the office that day. Leo didn't return home either. He sent her a text saying he was working on a new project and would be staying at the store until he'd completed it. Lucrezia went through the motions of living, feeling utterly bereft and alone. Two days later, Riario wandered into the office as if nothing had happened.

"Good morning."

She rubbed at her forehead. "Why are you here? Where have you been?"

"Where? I have other business considerations. Why am I here?" Riario asked. "Because, Lucrezia, I want to work alongside you, sweet torment though it is."

She closed her eyes, not knowing how to deal with him. 

"Lucrezia?"

"What do you want from me?" She opened her eyes and leaned forward. This time it was she who was tired of the dance. "I can't stand this game playing any longer. Do you want my company? Take it!" She stood. "Take it from me, as your father intended. Like father like son!"

It was a low blow and it hit home. Riario lowered his gaze briefly. He took a moment to get himself under control. "I don't want your business," he said at last.

"Then what?"

"You!" He took a step closer, checked himself. "It has always been you!"

She made a noise of rebuttal. "You loved Zita."

"I cared for her, yes, but –"

"I came to tell you the moment Lorenzo proposed to me!" He might as well know the whole truth. "I saw you with her! Holding her. In the library, where we used to meet! Caressing her hair the way you used to touch mine. She was leaning into your shoulder and…" She broke off, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

Riario stared at her. "You saw that?" He shook his head and gave a harsh laugh. "Oh, Lucrezia. You fool."

She bristled at this insult. "Me?"

"Yes!" Riario strode forward to stand in front of her desk. "I was saying goodbye to her. That was the night I told her I loved another. Zita was crying and I was comforting her, because I had just told her I could never be with her as she deserved. I didn't tell her your name, but I told her I could only love one woman, and it wasn't her. I had just split up with her because of _you_!"

Lucrezia stared at him, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment at her faux pas and all the agony she'd caused both herself and Riario. She closed her eyes, scolding herself.

"I am a fool," she said. "I assumed you loved her." She'd been wrong. He felt the same way about her as she did about him, and he always had.

"Not the way I cared for you! I asked you to end it with Lorenzo because I wanted to be with you publicly. That's why I made the ultimatum that you must give him up if I were to leave Zita. But I had already chosen you, Lucrezia. I was going to tell you but you had accepted Lorenzo's proposal."  
If she'd let him speak, she would have known the truth. If she hadn't been determined to hurt him they could have been together back then!

"I loved you even when you left," he said, sadness in his tone that he could not hide. "And I hated you, too. Yet I wanted to be near you again. Inheriting the shares gave me a chance to be in your life again. As I said, I wanted to teach you a lesson. I wanted you to break up with Leo. I wanted you to know heartbreak." He lowered his gaze, shoulders slumped in defeat. "But I have failed, for I cannot stop caring for you, and the hurt I inflict on you I also inflect on myself."

Lucrezia bent forward and took his hand. "I _was_ heartbroken," she said, her voice shaky. "I didn't go to Italy to run from Lorenzo, but from you."

He bit back what sounded like a sob. "Then you did care?"

"I still do." She released him and got to her feet, no longer feeling protected by the barrier of the desk but frustrated by it. Riario watched her approach with uncertainty, wary of trusting her, and she couldn't blame him. 

"I have learned my lesson," she said softly, moving to cup his chin, one thumb resting on his lip. Surprise showed in his eyes, but he stayed silent, letting her explain. "I was cruel when I broke up with you, and I was wrong, and," she hesitated, her hand slipping down to his shoulder, then screwed up her courage, "and I love you."

He'd never looked as innocent and vulnerable as at that moment. He still expected a trick, for the rug to be pulled from beneath him. The emotional scars left by his father ran deep. She would do what she could to smooth them over in future. She would work to regain his trust and, hopefully, he would try to do the same. She would show him that only did she love him but that he was deserving of love. 

In the future they would both have to be more honest. One truthful conversation about Zita and Lorenzo could have prevented all this anguish.

She'd made her choice, Lucrezia realised as she leaned in and kissed him. She chose him.  
She liked Leo, but their relationship wasn't the same as the one she had with Riario. She'd always loved Riario, and she couldn't lose him again.

Then all she thought of was Riario, of his lips against hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he grew bolder, encouraged by the pressure of her body against his, one hand in his hair. He pulled her against him, one arm around her shoulders, the other at her hips. When they paused for air, he gazed deep into her eyes.

"You're certain?"

"I am."

He initiated the kiss this time. One hand roamed down to cup her buttock, bringing her further into his embrace. Lucrezia felt hot tears welling up, regret for all the pain she'd caused and all the time they'd wasted.

"Lucrezia?" He released her and she shook her head.

"I'm all right."

He used his thumb to wipe away a tear from her cheekbone. "You're crying."

"I'm happy," she said, and it was true. She was overwhelmed at the thought of recovering this relationship, this depth of love, this much happiness. "I cry when I'm happy, remember?"

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Then what do we do now? Can you forgive me?"

"I can. Can you forgive me?"

"I will," he said, and she thought he meant that he would in time. He needed time to accept all that happened, and she understood.

"There's something I have to do," she said. "Before we can be together."

He nodded and gave a sigh. "Leo. I'm sorry. He deserved better than my using him against you."

Leo deserved better than her, too. He deserved someone who loved him with the devotion she felt only for Riario.

"He's resilient," Lucrezia said. "I'll let him down gently." None of this was Leo's fault and she would not hurt him more than she could help. She would not be cruel when she broke it off. That was another lesson she'd taken to heart.

Riario gave her an approving smile. "In your own time," he said, which always meant "as soon as possible." For once, she was ready to obey, and she sent a text asking Leo to meet her at the apartment. 

_I'll be there in twenty minutes_ came the reply. Lucrezia squared her shoulders and headed out to do what was best for all of them.

* 

"It's all right," Leo said. "I don't want to marry you either." At her astonished look, he stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "I thought we could make it work but I have to admit that we were probably never more than a fling. I want to be happy and I don't think marrying you would ever have made me happy. I want you to be happy, too, and well, I see how you look at Riario. You'll be happier with him."

Lucrezia sank onto the sofa, overwhelmed with relief at Leo's easy acceptance.

"Hell, I even want Riario to be happy," Leo said, and he sounded sincere. "So be with him. Love him the way you never loved me. We'll all still be friends."

There was a hopeful note in his voice, the hint of a question and she nodded. "Always," she said, knowing she did still care about Leo even if she didn't love him with the passion she did Riario, and aware that he still cared about her - and liked the networking she provided him with.

Leo bent down and placed one finger under her chin, tilting her head up to give her a kiss goodbye. "Farewell, my darling. I expect an invitation to the wedding you know."

He left the room before Lucrezia could respond.

* 

"How did he take it?" Riario asked when Lucrezia wandered back into the office. He was leaning back in his chair, one foot on the desk, a glass of scotch in one hand.

"Very well." Lucy poured a drink for herself. "He says I will make you happy and vice versa. But he wants to stay in touch, and he demanded an invitation to the wedding if and when we have one."

Riario gave a soft laugh, moving to put both feet on the floor. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he said, and he too seemed sincere. Leo had charmed him, and Lucrezia was glad that perhaps Leo could be a trusted friend to Riario. They needed people like Leo in their lives, someone outside of their world, someone who wasn't afraid to be brutally honest, someone without ulterior motives beyond selling a few more pieces of artwork.

Lucrezia moved to sit on Riario's lap. To us, then," she said, and they clinked their glasses together. "Partners in love and business."

Riario kissed the back of her neck. "Partners," he agreed.

Outside, the stars shone brightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is based on a line from the poem _The Indian Serenade_ by Percy Bysshe Shelley. The out of copyright poem is heavily quoted from within the text, and, at time of posting, the full text can be found [at poetry foundation](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/174391). The chapter titles are taken both from other lines from the poem, and from the titles of other works by Shelley.
> 
> This work was written for the unconventional courtship challenge (2015), using as inspiration [plot 7](http://unconventionalcourtship.dreamwidth.org/401.html) Marriage at His Convenience by Jacqueline Baird.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr post](http://meridianrose.tumblr.com/post/117682418126/title-the-stars-shone-brightly-chapters-55-by); if you care to promote via a reblog! Thanks :D


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